


Come with the wind

by Storycollector



Series: Saga of the Wor(l)ds [9]
Category: Ever After High, Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Storycollector/pseuds/Storycollector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>New school year means a new trip to the wind spirits. This year our favorite pupils, now 3rd graders, visit the East Wind Eurus. Accompanied by none other than their  headmistress-in-training Zelda Tolkien. But where there is a Quill, there’s a trouble. The power vacuum among the Greek anemoi caused the wind spirits of other cultures to crave the free territory as their own. Will Zelda stop the war before the readers on Earth will be blown away by the natural catastrophes caused by the battling winds?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Everything was grey. The trees, the ground, the snow covering it all. Everything was grey. Even the children huddled together, walking through the forest were grey. Their coats and skin were the color of weariness and their eyes lost the sparks of happiness long ago. It was as if they gave up on living long ago. 

The two figures and the whole forest seemed to be filled with hopelessness. Perhaps their young spirits filled with despair oozed their grayness into the environment. Now everything was thoroughly colorless and joyless. 

Everything. Except the red bird. 

It was red. Burning and shining far and wide. A drop of life in this barren landscape. It appeared suddenly, almost out of nowhere. It sat on a branch and looked for the children. There they are!

It will sing and lead the poor little ones through thicket and woods to Mama, where they will play and eat to their hearts content. They will leave this grey lifeless land for brighter more joyous days. 

It wanted to start singing but then it noticed something. On a tree nearby perched a large barn owl. It did nothing. It didn’t even hoot. It just turned its head around a bit, then stared at the small red bird. However the little bird felt uncomfortable so close to that big owl. There was something sinister about it. Perhaps it was its long claws or its sharp beak. The red bird hopped on the branch tweeting but it didn’t faze the barn owl one bit. Then the red bird flew off. Soon the birdie and the children will be far away from this nasty overgrown creature.

The owl waited a while and then it took off, too. It followed the red bird. It was close but not too close. The owl was lucky, the red bird didn’t notice anything. It flew into a garden singing as gently and seductively as ever. Behind it came two children. A boy and a girl. Both were dressed in grey worn out coats. They entered the garden slowly shocked by the brightness and the wide palette of colors there. There were some children already. Playing, napping, swimming in a river, climbing trees. All were dressed in bright shirts, tunics, skirts or shorts. The newcomers saw it and were amazed by the various shades of red, yellow and other beautiful colors. At once their coats changed into simple yet nicely fitting summer clothing. Anywhere else the colors would seem mismatched but it was simply stunning here. 

The owl let out a quiet, yet pleased hoot. A garden. Full of children. Surely at least one of them has to have some magical abilities. The masters will be pleased. 

ᴥ

Gusts of wind blew from all directions. Weapons clashed. You could hear battle cries and swear words in many different languages. 

„Surrender or my blades will tear you apart,“ yelled a dark skinned man with a crown made of feathers on his head. „Over my dead body,“ hissed a man with skin a bit lighter but dark were rich ornaments covering his arms and face. This was just one fight among many fought at that time.


	2. Chapter 1

_October 2015_

It was a nice day. Of course, it was. No one was sad because everything seemed to be alright. Oh sure, there was always something to do but it was better than last year. The school prevailed, some students were a step closer to graduation, the Storybook of Legends has been found, the headmasters reconciled and they gained an apprentice and daughter in one person.

Raven decided to take a semester at Monster High, she got there before the school year started because she didn’t want to spend September, and most importantly, the time around Legacy day, when the second year students sign the Storybook of legends, at Ever After High. Zelda thought it was a good decision for the girl as well as for the whole realm. The signing or not signing was still a touchy subject and the tension among students increased during those days but there wasn’t any event as dramatic as Raven’s tearing of the page from the fake Storybook. 

Even Apple was glad Raven went to the other realm. Partly hoping she would get a bit monstrous and finally accept her role she was born for and because she honestly wished for her to meet new friends, learn new things and just have a good time. 

Cupid remained at Ever After High. It wasn’t just because of being near to Dexter but she got to like the land of fairy tales and even though she spent the summer at Mount Olympus she was glad to have returned to EAH. 

Wonderland was healed. Mostly. The curse lasted for years and even magic needs time to help it with healing wounds of lands and persons alike. That’s why Maddie, Kitty, Lizzie and some others decided to stay or come to Ever After High. Still the pain from being away from Wonderland lessened as more and more portals were being unsealed.

According to the calendar it was time to visit the wind spirits residing on the precipice of myth and fairy tale dimensions. Every October the class went to see a wind god. This time the third year students were to go to see Eurus the East Wind. He lived in a windy place with acres of golden plants stretching from one horizon to the other, no tall trees were to be found there and what short tree or bush lived there it was always yellow, red or brown. Many people brought kites to fly them on the winds. 

What would that be for a field trip if the class wouldn’t be accompanied by a headmaster? The Duty year students got the youngest of them. “Could you believe it? All these years traveling through storyworlds and I have never seen an anemoi before,” Zelda was hexcitedly chatting with her friends. It was her first time seeing a weather spirit from Greek mythology. This was something the students had more hexperiences with. They have already visited the West and North wind, in their first and second year respectively.  


She waved bye at her adoptive fathers, the co-headmasters Grimm, and transported herself to the wind’s territory. The fields rippled as the wind combed the barley.  


The teachers Madame Baba Yaga and Mr Badwolf were accompanying the third graders as well. It would be too difficult for one person to keep an eye on all these youngsters ready for fun and trouble and those two were the staff members Milton and Giles trusted the most. It was only natural they would ask them to assist their daughter with supervising over the troop made of students.

ᴥ

Akasha admired the beauty of the landscape. Around her popped bubbles that were carrying the students. She waited for everyone to arrive then when everyone gathered they went to meet the East Wind. 

ᴥ

The children have finally found peace. In the garden of many colors and many little ones. The sister and brother made new friends and the woman who tended to the garden and to the kids loved them as much as she could. 

The children were being visited by birds. They liked the tiny red one best because it was the one who showed them the way to their new home. They saw a stork or two every few days. That’s why they weren’t afraid of the owls at first. 

Until the sweet lady went to the house to fetch something and the group of barn owls flew away with a few of the children. Taking them who knows where. This has troubled the lady of the garden and since then every time they were afraid the big menacing owls might come back the children hid in the house. 

ᴥ

Far far away a fishing boat was caught in a raging storm. The sea can be traitorous but the sailors hoped the peak of the worst weather season has passed. Instead it was them who passed away as their boat was sunk by the sheer force of the massive waves.


	3. Chapter 2

The flock of the feathery kidnappers has flown to an ice covered island. The aggressive wind was a mighty opponent but the owls have fought with this foe many times and were able to maneuver through the blizzard and deliver their prey. The scared children, most were too terrified to make a sound but there were few defiant ones who screamed for help, were taken by rough hands and dragged and pushed deeper into a black and bluish white mountain. Black was the stone covered with frozen snow. The owls flew to their nesting place at top of the mountain to rest before their masters will send them off for another batch of children. 

ᴥ

Milton Grimm has arrived at the island of the North Wind. When the Boreas was still alive, the island was cold and snow covered. The snow blanket no shorter than a foot at all times. The place itself was like a personification of winter. The air was crisp and it pinched your cheeks. 

There were always only a handful of trees and shrubs, they weren’t very tall just like the flora in high mountains but they were beautiful with the lumps of snow decorating their branches like thick bride’s veil. 

But nowadays the snow has all melted down with time and the sun shines longer and more often than it used to so it allowed for some more tree saplings to root and grow. The island was slowly getting warmer since the day the last ruler, Boreas the North Wind, has passed away and there was no one to take his place to restore the place to former order.  


Boreas had three children. Two sons who unfortunately showed no sign of inheriting the ability to tame the winds. They left with their mother and lived in a mythic city. The last child was a daughter. She was gifted but rebellious and though their personalities were similar, the two wind shepherds didn’t want to acknowledge that and often argued. One day Aquilona had enough of living with the demanding old man and escaped. No one has seen her since that day. 

Boreas wasn’t easy to get along but even the grouchy anemoi regretted losing all of his family. He died lonely on a cold island, the whistling, weeping winds his only companions and funeral visitors. 

Milton sighed. He himself avoided that fate only narrowly as he almost broke the bond between him and his brother. Were it not for Zelda, he may have spent the rest of his life as lonely miserable bitter man. Fortunately the girl, nay, the young woman managed to get the two men back together. Of course, having the possibility of seeing Beatrice again has helped, too. The downside of it all was that his lover and Laura were only ghosts of their former selves now. 

That was all in the past now and the aging Headmaster didn’t came to reminiscence about the past, he has a lecture to hold. Present Legacy year students, the second graders, need to learn about the history and why it is important to follow traditions. Because when Characters go off-script lands are being cursed and other misfortunes befall the culprits and everyone around them. 

Speaking of misfortune, someone was fighting in the distance. The landscape was quite low making it possible to see people standing miles from you. Only the opponents were so focused on their brawl they didn’t register they aren’t alone on the island anymore. 

“Students, stay here,” ordered Milton frowning. The group of youngsters started buzzing with questions but no one dared to approach the fighters. They observed how their headmaster went to stop the battle. 

A dark skinned man with feathered headpiece, Egyptian wind god Shu, yelled from top of his lungs and launched another attack at his rival: “This land has no ruler anymore so I declare myself the lord of Hyperborea.” “Over my dead body, you moron,” shouted another wind deity Varpulis angrily as he blocked the kick. 

Grimm scowled, the strong gusts of wind were ruffling his hair and the wind was getting stronger as he neared the two entities. The warriors were way too engulfed in their conflicting. To get their attention he will have to pull something big. 

Wind manipulation was something Giles was better but he was able to learn a thing or two himself. Grimm muttered a long spell, his hands moving in spiraling motions as if he was stirring the thin air. 

In the space between the fighting gods and Grimm appeared a tornado. It grew into a ten feet high pillar made of wind. The tornado was now strong enough to suck the fighting deities into the wind’s funnel where they circled for a half minute and then were spat out of it into the air. The Headmaster was finally able to approach them without getting injured. The wind deities looked bewildered that the events took such unexpected turn. “Grimm?” Varpulis was the first to pull himself together. “With pleasure,” Milton deadpanned. “May I ask what was the meaning of this ‘exercise’?” 

Shu frowned at the mortal who was so rude to interrupt the fight: “The Grimm Brothers are surely aware of the fact that the last ruler of this island Boreas the North Wind has passed away leaving no heirs behind. I, Shu, see fit that this dominium be added to my territory.” “I protest,” said Varpulis hastily, “this island will become mine and will bring prestige to the Slovak mythology.” “I would rather give this place to Tāwhiri then leave it to you,” snarled Shu. “Silence,” Grimm yelled as if he was talking with unruly students. It had the same effect, the wind gods shut up immediately. 

“How long are you two fighting?” “It’s not just the two of us,” defended Shu his actions. “Yeah, every wind god has joined the battle,” Varpulis unwillingly supported his rival. “I asked: how long?” Varpulis shrugged: “About half a year. I’m not sure, the time flies so fast when you’re pummeling guys left and right almost every day.” The Headmaster wasn’t impressed: “I see you were quite busy. I have good news though. You can now take a rest from, like you said, pummeling each other.” The wind gods breathed in and opened their mouths to protest. But Grimm glared at them: “You and others will stop this nonsense. I and my brother will see to it.” Both wind gods nodded unhappily. 

Grimm took a few steps away from the two gods but he didn’t return to the students right away. Instead he pulled out his mirrorphone. The wind spirits of various cultures began to fight over the island. They will have to stop that before it gets out of their hands.


	4. Chapter 3

Hyperborea’s ice may have melted away but it wasn’t the only island governed by northern winds. On one of such island stood an imposing obsidian mountain its insides rigged with tunnels, some tunnels lead outside to large stony platoons where wooden huts were built, some lead to large caves. Caves where a bunch of extra strong boys and scruffy bearded dwarfs was chopping wood and a squadron of kids light on their feet, on the same time used to carry heavy loads, was commuting through these tunnels to distribute the wood to furnaces and hearths to keep the mountain only mildly cold. It was never warm in there. Caves full of non-fighting dwarves, who were employed as chefs, herders and toolsmiths with their many helpers. All were children from different races and from different origins. Caves with thin blankets where the tamer ones were sleeping. Caves with cages for the newcomers and those who were resisting to obey their new masters.

Not that many resisted for long. Cold, small portions of food and long shifts of hard manual labor broke the spirit of many. When the captives rebelled or tried to escape it ended badly for them. Freezing to death in the snow or getting beaten to death or thrown from the mountaintop as punishment were usually the only life perspectives for those who held their heads too high. 

But even in such hostile place you can find persistent souls doing their best to survive. Like Björn, an albino, smuggling food or extra blankets for those younger than himself. It was hard to keep track of time in the mountain but he was about seventeen years old. He wondered where the adults go. Where he will go once the masters decide he’s too old to stay and that they have too many workers. If he will be killed off or sold as a slave. Until the day comes he will work hard and hope that one day someone will free them. He was born in a fairytale land but he was never taught proper hero procedures so he doubted that he would be able to save himself not to mention other children. 

ᴥ

Meanwhile the third year students had fun. They were running around, their colourful and funny looking kites were surfing on the gentle East wind gusts. Duchess’s white swan kite and Ashlynn’s flame colored phoenix competed about the title of the most beautiful design while Lizzie’s kite inspired by the playing cards was the work of a clever architect. 

Akasha has observed the frolicking in the air, regretting she didn’t have time to build one kite for herself, too. On the other hand her other projects were doing fine. The bar Bottle’s bottom was running smoothly, Brodo proved to be a practical and dependable bartender. Zelda didn’t have to check on him often since he avoided cheap tricks like mixing water with alcohol and such but it was nice to visit him and have a cocktail once in a while. And Raven was happy in her new school. The dark princess didn’t talk whether she wants to stay there for good though. Well, she still has a lot of time to make that decision, thought the Quill. 

“Zelda, your phone is going to ring,” said Maddie cheerfully, which was completely normal for her. Zelda didn’t bother to question the Hatter’s intuition knowing well that she hears the Narrators who know about stuff that is happening or will happen in the near future and began to rummage in her Storybook of legends backpack, she made it herself after the previous one fell apart. Soon enough her phone really did ring. 

“Zelda Tolkien here.” “Zelda, come here to Hyperborea to see me and Giles. There is something you have to see and we have to deal with.” “I’m on my way,” retorted Zelda bewildered about what is happening that it worries Milton so much. OK, he was frequently worried about events and people being on time and if Zelda isn’t evading paperwork but that was insignificant stuff compared to the tone of voice used for the serious situations. Yeah, this was beyond pedantic fussing. Some script happened and they will have to go full Quill to kick some troublemaker’s butt. 

First she got together Badwolf and Baba Yaga to tell them that she suddenly has to go elsewhere: “I have to meet Milton and Giles but I will come as soon as I can. Will you manage the children alone?” Baba Yaga grinned world-wearily: “I have many experiences with taming unruly kids, don’t you worry.” Zelda smiled and left. 

ᴥ

Mere minutes before Zelda arrived another nature spirit arrived and attacked Shu who was closest to her. It was a female spirit. Actually it was a type of fey – a Sídhe. These reside in the realm of fairies that is its own secluded place but they share some characteristics with wind spirits and other elementals from mythological pantheons. The Sidhe attacked viciously with long claws, her insect-like wings beating wildly sacrificing stealth for speed. In wasn’t a bad move, Shu reacted too slowly to dodge her assault but he soon retaliated with an attack of its own. Varpulis didn’t wait for them to finish each other and joined the brawl. Milton and Giles were about to make a move themselves when their adopted daughter appeared. 

Zelda put her enchanted gauntlet on her right hand. It was her secondary weapon. The gauntlet activated itself and a large hand the size of a small car appeared, it was chained to the gauntlet, it looked and worked basically as a flail. The red head waited for an opening, then she grabbed the fey in the air with the enlarged version of her hand while the Grimm Brothers were restraining Shu and Varpulis. They summoned roots from the ground to trap the feet of the fighters causing them to trip and fall to the ground. “What’s going on?” asked the youngest Quill with the squirming and screeching wind spirit in her hand-like weapon. “Good thing you’re already here,” smiled Giles. “As you see the wind spirits are fighting each other.” “Unfortunately it’s not just these three. All the north winds, from all cultures are fighting about domination over Hyperborea,” growled Milton at the two male wind spirits to make them calm down again. Oh Poe, I knew it’s going to be a big mess, thought Zelda. Loudly she said: “Boreas died hundred fifty years ago. Why would the winds start fighting about his territory NOW?” “More importantly we should be asking how to stop this disagreement among the wind deities,” frowned Giles. Milton looked at his brother: “We can call it a civil war by this point.” 

Zelda sighed and looked around. All of a sudden she remembered an old poem by a Greek poet Pindar that described this place:

_“Never the Muse is absent_

_from their ways: lyres clash and flutes cry_

_and everywhere maiden choruses whirling._

_Neither disease nor bitter old age is mixed_

_in their sacred blood; far from labor and battle they live.”_

Boreas aged and died and now there is a civil war about who’s going to rule this land. (And Grimm knows where are the muses. Not here, that’s for sure.) Well, done, Pindar, well done. The joyful hymn really nailed the atmosphere of this place. Yanno, there is a nation who uses the verb _pindat_ for talking silly nonsense. I think those people must have known you personally. 

“Did Aquilona really turn into a wind,” turned Zelda to her fathers. “We received a message from Auster, son of Notos. The anemoi are somehow able to communicate with the wind, well, the northern winds have told him that Aquilona has died and her bodiless spirit has joined the winds. That is all we know. There is a big ink blot about where was Aquilona all this time before she was turned to wind,” explained Milton. Ok, so Boreas’s daughter is definitely out of the picture now. “You want to suggest finding a suitable heir that other wind spirits would respect so the civil war would stop, is that right?” Giles was right, Zelda nodded. The younger Grimm continued: “That is a passable idea. If we can persuade the anemoi. Years before when we suggested them to appoint one of their own children, that is a nephew or niece of Boreas, they strongly disagreed.” “But clearly with all the other pantheons opposing them and with a duty to reign and protect their own territories, they will have to appoint a heir to Boreas as soon as possible. Even if they don’t want to,” Milton played with his curly moustache and sighed. The anemoi are three: Zephyr, Eurus and Notos, they have offspring of their own. But they are still only from one culture facing the rest of the mythological world and fey elementals. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I copied the poem from Wikipedia. The poem comes from the Tenth Pythian Ode by Pindar. The verb is used by Czechs, it’s a word that’s used in my native language.


	5. Chapter 4

“Let me out!” The screech was followed by a spicy insult. Zelda rolled her eyes. She forgot the air fey she took captive in the North wind’s realm and was now holding in the Gauntlet’s palm. At the same time the Quill also realized she returned to the island where the East wind resided without constructing any real plan with her adoptive fathers. The woman sighed, stuff like this happened way too easily when she was using the D-Vice. 

Zelda opened her own palm to release the elemental fairy from the giant replica of a hand. Well, she is a wind spirit, just from a different part of mythology dimension so she shouldn’t suffer any repercussions connected to forceful change of the setting. “Get lost,” she told the fairy when the being continued to flutter around her and the insults were continuously streaming from her mouth. “What am I supposed to do here,” protested the fey. “Dunno. You could just go with the flow of the wind,” deadpanned Zelda. 

“At least you won’t get in trouble here,” continued the Quill as she took of her special gauntlet. This territory had its rightful master and he had a family so it would be one solitary conqueror against a group of resident wind spirits who knew the terrain like the palms of their hands. No good odds for a single fey. The airy fairy spat some last profanities before she flew off.

Well, that has been dealt with. The question was, what to do now? I guess, I will just go straight to Eurus to inform him that someone will have to sit on Boreas throne. Be it his own child or one of his nephews, mused Zelda. 

It required a few interspatial jumps before she found where the wind spirit and lord of this island is at the moment. He sat by a fire. His few servants enkindled several pyramids of wood while their master was entertaining his guests with witty and suspenseful stories of his siblings and himself near one of them. When the students got tired of flying kites, they sat around the campfires lit on the fields and meadow to bake potatoes. 

“And that was the story. Tell it better, any of you, if you can,” ended a tall, muscled indigo haired and bearded man clapping his thigh and reaching for a mug of ale to wet his thirsty throat. “I can’t tell this one better than you do, I have a different one to tell though,” said Zelda taking a seat right across Eurus. 

“There used to be four brothers. Each of them ruled an island until one day a daughter of one of them ran away from home and her father withered away due to his broken heart. Now there are only three rulers and one empty seat that lures spirits from faraway places eager to snatch the throne for themselves. They won’t stop fighting just because we ask them nicely.” 

Eurus mood changed before you could count to three. The jovial host took a step back to reveal a grim, sad man. 

“You are the new daughter of the Grimms, right?” He didn’t wait for Zelda to confirm it and continued: “When your fathers came to us with the request to appoint one of our sons to take the mantle of our brother we refused, there was no need then, no one was harbouring any secret desire to reign over Hyperborea and Boreas reputation hung over it like a shield. I admit we waited so long in honor of our deceased brother, it felt wrong to rush with appointing a successor. And there is one other reason…,” Eurus looked around visibly uncomfortable. 

Zelda caught on immediately and said: “Children, give us a few minutes.” The students rose up with varying levels of dissatisfaction and moved to other campfires.   
“Let me summon my brothers, we have to discuss this together,” said the wind spirit and called a servant to bring him his mirrorphone. “Then I will call to my fathers, they should know it, too,” nodded Zelda and texted to Milton and Giles. 

ᴥ

Eurus, Notus and Zephyrus gathered and so did the Grimm Brothers and Zelda. The Quills had to be patient because the wind spirits took their sweet time to reveal their secret to them. Finally Notus spoke up. He was the shortest of his brothers and on the stockier side unlike his leaner siblings: 

„The real reason why we didn’t choose the new North Wind from the ranks of our offspring is that somewhere out there lives Boreas’ heir. The winds whisper that Aquilona had a child she gave up. The boy or girl is the proper successor, we mustn’t take the child’s rights to the seat of the North wind.“ 

Aquilona had a child? And its uncles knew about it all this time without trying to actually look for him or her? The kid is growing up somewhere without its mother and they don’t bother asking if she or he doesn’t need any help or just a shoulder to cry on? What is wrong with this family?! Giles might have guessed she would be irritated by their words because he put a hand on her shoulder. 

Zelda tried to tame her inner emotional turmoil and careful as not to snap at the winds she asked: “Do the winds know where the child is? Have they seen them?”  
“The winds that reported Aquilona’s death are north winds so they don’t obey us as obediently as they would the real North Wind but they fulfill majority of our orders, it doesn’t guarantee they would be able to find the child though.”

“Why not?” asked Giles and Zelda suspected he may know it already but he asked for her benefit. This time it was Eurus who replied: “They don’t communicate the way we do right now. Their speech is chaotic, many voices speak at once because the wind doesn’t know individuality and it is prone to get distracted.” 

Notus took over: “What the wind says is to be taken with a grain of salt. A possible rumor but a rumor nonetheless. We hold the seat of Hyperborea empty from politeness but we aren’t convinced there was ever a high chance the heir would be actually found.” A this moment Zephyrus had a peculiar fit of cough. 

Zelda had on the other hand had to fight an urge to facepalm. Apparently she wasn’t the only one slightly aggravated by the anemoi. 

“Eurus, Notus, Zephyrus, your loyalty to your oldest brother and his kin is admirable but as you yourselves are telling us the probability one of his kin will ever sit on the throne is low. It’s highest time you choose a new ruler of Hyperborea. All of you can start right away, now that you have gathered here,” said Milton with an ironic undertone. 

The Wind spirits fidgeted. Even with the fight over Hyperborea right behind their doors they managed little more than standing there looking hapless. 

Zelda sighed: “If it pleases you, I can try take a look where Aquilona was supposedly seen last. But you have to elect a new North Wind candidate in the meantime. Just in case I return empty handed.” And if I return and there will be no candidate for the shepherd of north winds, I will kick your indigo haired butts. Of course she didn’t say the last sentence aloud but she wanted to. Oh Poe, how badly she wanted to tell them. 

“So at least we have arrived to an agreement,” concluded Milton and the spirits begrudgingly agreed. They didn’t like it but they have seen that the Quills have come with reasonable requirements. Also the Grimm Brothers were a force to be reckoned with. They were mighty allies and it was advisable to keep them on your side which in the case of Eurus and co. meant to proclaim one of their sons or daughters as the next anemoi. 

“I will choose and prepare the wind for the search,” offered Zephyrus suddenly. He was the youngest and the most laid-back of them. He looked as if he didn’t know what is a shirt and his smirk hinted at lack of humbleness from the spirit’s side but at least he volunteered to do something. 

The youngest anemoi and the youngest Quill have separated themselves from their allies. When they were alone Zephyr told Zelda more about his work: “What they said is true, the gusts as a mass can’t agree on practically anything. They argue whether to listen to one of us when we’re not Boreas and even if to fly right or left. So they can’t tell you where to look for the kid, they can’t even decide there IS a kid. But you can separate smaller gusts from the big wind current and if you talk with them one by one, they can tell you interesting things, if you know how to listen.”

Zelda began to like this guy. It was a lot like talking with the students. You had to meet the crowd from time to time but the real gold mine for information was to converse with them privately. This guy wasn’t just a simple minded surfer dude and beach Casanova, he also really knew how to handle his incorporeal herd. 

Zephyr continued: “There is one breeze that doesn’t have a strong voice so it’s easily silenced in the large wind current but it insists it knows where to look for the child. It says it’s a boy as if it has seen him but the language of the wind isn’t very accurate. “That reminds me of something,” Zelda sighed wearily as a memory of Riddlish slipped her mind.   
“Sorry?” Zephyr looked at Zelda quizzically. The woman shook her head: “It’s nothing, It’s just that I had my share of experiences with cultures that have mindset quite diverse from mine and the language mirrors it.”

The anemoi simply shrugged and focused on his job. He whistled and soon around them were flying winds left and right. Zephyrus whistled again, differently this time and reached with his hand in front of himself. He grabbed something invisible and held it firmly but carefully.

“This is the one I was talking about,” the anemoi said to Zelda. She had to trust him because all she saw was an empty palm of his hand. She didn’t even feel a presence of a soul but then again it was wind, a force of nature, not an organism. 

A servant of Eurus has brought a string made of enchanted flax, there may have been some silver woven into it, mused Zelda, and together with Zephyrus they tied the thin rope around the little gust of wind. When the wind was secured, Zephyr opened his palm and let the invisible chained something fly into the air. Zelda looked as the seemingly empty noose of the string hovered above their heads.

“Here you go,” said Zephyrus and put the other end of the rope into Zelda’s hand. “If we’re all lucky this sweetie will take you to my nephew. Or niece. Don’t let go of the rope, the winds are fickle and once they sense a weak shepherd they tend to run off. 

“Okay,” mumbled Zelda unsure of what to expect next. She had a wind on a leash. Not the weirdest situation she has been in so far but it was an odd sensation having to track someone with the help of a disembodied substance. 

The two returned to their families. “It seems I have a new pet,” joked Zelda. In that moment the gust of wind she walked has thrown an acorn on her head. “Hey, stop it,” yelled the Quill. 

The rest of the day was uneventful. The students, teachers and headmasters returned to school. Zelda decided she would start with the search tomorrow and mindful of Zephyr’s advice she tied the leash to her wrist as to not let the wind loose even while sleeping. “Good night, I wish you could be here to see me walk a real wind,” she said softly as she put the photograph of her parents and her on the nightstand. Then she crawled under the blanket. “Good night, Windy,” yawned Zelda and closed her eyes. The breeze has lightly ruffled her hair.


	6. Chapter 5: Shadow of a wind’s past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda begins her search for Boreas' heir, during her search she makes one unexpected but amazing discovery.

As soon as Zelda woke up she checked her wrist. Good, the knot is still tied up firmly. “Good morning, Windy,” she said not expecting an answer. “You know what day is it? The day we start looking for the heir.” Windy rustled the curtains like an unruly ghost. The quilly girl smiled and got up. 

After Zelda got dressed and ate her breakfast she went straight to the library. To the geography section where mythical realm maps were stored. The girl looked the tall shelves stacked with maps and atlases up and down. There were a lot of stories and each one of them was situated in a world of their own which meant a map for every single story. Not to mention that some maps had to be redrawn due to cartographic errors or because an adaptation changed the Readers’ perception of the realm thus leading to a change of the geography itself. Spontaneous appearances and disappearances of islands due to the mortals imagining and re-imagining (or just plainly forgetting) of a tale was a known occurrence. Last but not least, some (but only a handful of beings in all the realms) storyworlders were so mighty they were actually able to create isles or, in some rare cases, even whole worlds for themselves.

Zelda knew that she can’t just blindly hop from one story world to another, that would take forever. Therefore it was necessary to rule out which worlds seems to be most attractive for such a being to settle in. The Quills knew that a Character feels best in the setting of one’s own story, the worlds that are most similar to one’s home storyworld coming close second.

Anemois are Greek mythological beings, so one would prefer settings of European and Middle Eastern mythological stories. Like Slavic or Norse or Persian myths. That was still quite a broad range but it was manageable. Much better than having to take into consideration even genres like futurism or contemporary 21st fiction. The regular library sections didn't even have shelves for stuff like maps of horror stories‘ settings. But fortunately mythology was allowed even recommended to study. Fairy tales and myths had a very close and well maintained connection that came in handy sometimes. The result of this inter-story bond was a high column of shelves full of atlas and scrolls with single maps. Each map registered under the title, name of the cartographer and the place it depicts. 

Zelda rubbed palms of her hands of each other like a fly ready to dive into her job: “Alright, Windy, we can make this work. You help me, I help you. As soon as this is over you can return to your other wind buddies. Sounds nicely, no?” The girl didn’t wait for an answer and just took the first few maps from the shelf in order to read them. 

The plan was to show each map to the borrowed gust of wind whether it will recognize the land or not. Zelda was ready for the possibility that the wind is too scatterbrained, if you can say it about something that doesn’t have any biological neural network, and won’t be able to pinpoint one specific land so she will scan the most probable locations into her mirrorphone. Then they will visit each realm where there is a small chance to find the missing wind deity fledgling.

Several of the maps were really interesting but to study them now would be procrastinating. They may be considered a backup plan in case all previous options fail but until this moment comes, it’s best to put them aside and forget about them for the time being. One map caught Zelda’s interest with such a surprising intensity, she had to really fight to suppress the urge to drop the search for the young wind and start looking up information about this unknown land.

The land had such a beautiful, mysteriously sounding name. A name Zelda hasn’t heard of yet. Terra Littera. Where could that be? Well, she will have to investigate it later for she has other things to deal with. So she put it aside, too, but she was hex damn sure that she will come back and find everything there is to find about this piece of storyverse.

~

By the time the first hour and half passed, Zelda has gone through a solid number of maps and although she had picked a few that sounded promising the gust of wind on the leash didn’t seem to be interested in any of the places. So the headmistress-in-training called it a break. Now she was lounging on a chair, carefully sipping the soda she smuggled in right under the noses of the librarians.

“The child lost its mother, I wonder if it still has a father,” Zelda mused loudly while eyeing the pile of maps. “I hope he or she does, because losing one parent is terrible enough, losing both is beyond awful. Speaking from experience there,” she chuckled mirthlessly and looked at Windy juggling with dust bunnies that it picked on the shelves and were now hovering in the air. 

“I’m crazy, right? Talking to a wind about being an orphan,” Zelda sighed and flicked at the leash. Windy has flown down and flipped through pages of an open book right and left as if looking for a specific page. Or shooking its head. 

Then the wind circled around Zelda’s head. The young woman giggled: “You want to cuddle?” She stretched her fingers and the wind flew around her hand as if being combed by the young headmistress. 

Zelda smiled: “You know for something I can’t see nor pet, you’re really adorable.”

At once the wind, still tied to Zelda’s wrist, started pulling at the leash so strongly, the girl stood up just to see why is the breeze acting so oddly all of a sudden. The breeze on a leash lead her mistress to a small basket with items that belonged to students and teachers and were forgotten in the library at some point. On a letterman jacket with the crest of the school sat a stuffed bunny with sewn button eyes. 

The gust of wind lifted the toy. It danced in the air for a few seconds, then the wind pressed the soft toy’s body to Zelda’s hand.

“Now I can pet you, right,” laughed Zelda and took the plush toy, but as she said it her smile froze. The wind couldn’t have done it on purpose. No way. What a ridiculous thought, or is it… 

“If I hadn’t know better I’d thought you can understand me,” Zelda shook her head in utter disbelief. At that moment a pile of papers flew right into Zelda’s face. “You can be pretty bothersome, too,” sighed the Quill shielding her face from the papers. 

“Tug on the leash three times if you understand me,” said Zelda jokingly into the air without really expecting any reaction. Then her hand jerked a bit. One, that didn’t have to mean anything. Two, that could still be an accident. Three. Zelda gasped. 

Ok, don’t lose your head. Fiction remember, there are hundreds of possibilities why this could have happen. “Once more. Same number as before,” having calmed down Zelda tested the wind’s intelligence and memory.

One, two, three. The wind was definitely sentient to a degree and capable of understanding human speech. “No way,” Zelda shook her head with widened eyes. So the wind can understand her words, it can count and has developed a way how to communicate with her. 

“Are you…” Zelda couldn’t bring herself to finish the question. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath. Go on, it’s not going to get easier if you keep pushing it away, she chided herself. “Are you Aquilona?” The young woman asked, rather hesitantly, but asked. “Tug at the leash for yes,” she added right away.

One, two, three tugs of the leash. Zelda shook her head whispering: “Oh my, oh my.” She had already felt crazy enough for talking to a wind, knowing that the wind used to be a human wasn’t making it much better though. But then again it confirmed the words of the anemoi brothers. Boreas’s daughter has really turned into wind. 

“No shit,” whispered Zelda. Her guts were still bewildered from the sudden development but her mind has already began to process whether it can be used to track down the wind spirit kid or not. 

“So you remember your name. What else do you remember?” Stupid question. Even if she remembers everything, how could she tell it to Zelda when she misses a mouth in this form. The wind threw down a few papers from the table, presumably out of anger and frustration. “Yeah, my bad, I’ll word my questions better next time,” apologized Zelda. “Do you remember having a child?” Three tugs. That was promising but the Quill wasn’t fully convinced yet.” “Are you sure?” she asked the mother-turned-breeze. It flew right into her face. Zelda winced and shook her head to get her hair into place. “Ok, ok, no need to get so ornery.” The windy mom proceeded to tug the string. 

“Is it a girl?” Nothing. “A boy then?” Three immediate tugs. “Ok, that’s a good start. Does he have blue hair like his uncles?” Tugging ensued. Bingo! 

Zelda giggled and almost shouted from joy. She caught herself in time to see the librarians glaring at her, each had one raised eyebrow. So what, she was their boss and she is on an important mission. What’s more she has made an amazing discovery just now. The breeze on the leash she carries around is none other than Aquilona herself, the daughter of Boreas! So it’s true, the anemoi really do turn into a wind. With Aquilona’s memories they will surely find her son in no time! 

Should she tell her fathers? They would like to know that an anemoi spirit can continue their existence as a gust of wind. Nonetheless she doesn’t have to tell them immediately she can tell them later when she returns with the heir.

Now that she knew her team partner understands her, Zelda had to find a way how to efficiently communicate with the wind. She built a paper crane and showed the tiny origami bird to the wind that was once a wind deity: “Here, this should be light enough for you to carry around. If you want me to go to a place, just point the beak at the map. Understood?” Three tugs. Windy-Aquilona lifted the paper bird into the air effortlessly. 

Then she let the small birdie land, its beak pointed at a town. “That’s the place you saw him last? Three tugs if I’m right.” Windy-Aquilona tugged at the leash. Zelda nodded: “Great, let’s check that town out. Who knows maybe he’s still there.” The wind made a little tornado in the air, the paper crane caught in the vertigo. 

Zelda grinned, she, too, was excited. “Alright, let’s fetch your baby,” said the Quill and took them both to the land on the map via skipping.


End file.
